


Together

by Rhiannon87



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 04:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon87/pseuds/Rhiannon87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's really important is that, at the end of the day, they're together. A little bit of fluff for spicyshimmy, who has been one of my bright lights in Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spicyshimmy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyshimmy/gifts).



They always find each other at the end of the day, regardless of where they've been. Whether they've been together, stomping around the Wounded Coast or the Bone Pit, or separated by duty, Hawke at the Keep and Anders in the slums, they always come back together. It's been long enough for it to be routine now, but not so long that the wonder of it has faded.

Anders isn't sure that it ever will fade, or that he wants it to.

Hawke leaves a trail of armor and clothes from the bedroom door to the bed. He sprawls out on top of the blankets, nestling back into the pillows with a contented sigh, and spends the next few minutes trying to toe off his boots without moving any more of him than necessary. Anders hangs up his jacket and coat, sets his boots beside the wardrobe, then climbs into bed as well. There's never much room left; Hawke's cat-like in the way he takes up space, arranging himself so as to minimize the amount of bed left for anyone else.

It doesn't really matter, though. Anders doesn't really need space of his own. He wraps himself around Hawke, his head on Hawke's chest, arms tight around his waist, their legs tangled together. Hawke said once that it reminded him of a drawing he'd seen, of the jungles of Seheron, with monkeys clinging four-limbed to tree branches. Anders had just smiled and pressed his face into Hawke's neck.

Sometimes, he still can't quite believe that he's here, that he has this. That he's curled up in a warm room on a soft bed, holding the man he loves more than anything. Holding  _ Hawke. _ It's sort of two-fold, the disbelief; on the one hand, he's sometimes surprised that Hawke, specifically, still wants him, still loves him, still holds his arms out to him every night. 

On the other is a more general shock that he has this sort of love at all. It wasn't something he'd ever expected, being free to love someone, to show that love. That climbing into someone else's arms is not only wanted, but allowed. There's no sneaking around, no frantic encounters in empty closets or dark corners. They can walk through the streets hand-in-hand and almost no one seems to notice. The fear never quite goes away, that the Templars will burst in and rip them apart, but every night that passes without the door being kicked in lessens the fear just a little.

“Copper for your thoughts?” Hawke asks, lips against Anders's hair, fingers tracing idle patterns over his skin.

Anders smiles. He doesn't have the words to explain all of it, isn't sure that there's time enough in the world for him to tell Hawke just how very much he means to him. So he settles for words that don't seem adequate, but Hawke always seems to understand. “I love you.”

He can hear the smile in Hawke's voice. “I know,” he replies, tightening his arms around him. “I love you, too.”

The words still aren't big enough to hold everything that they are to each other, but somehow, they're everything that Anders needs.


End file.
